


with new leadership comes tyranny

by Anonymous



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Dialogue Heavy, Dream SMP Election, Dream SMP Festival, Dream SMP War, Dream Smp, Gen, Mild Language, Pogtopia, Revolution, Temporary Character Death, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit Friendship, Villain Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Villain Wilbur Soot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:15:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27120095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Democracy was meant to be a step in the right direction for L'Manberg. However, when a new president declares himself emperor not five minutes after winning the election, one might notice a trend in downfalls.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 87
Collections: Anonymous





	1. election & exile

**Author's Note:**

> this is gonna be like the smp storyline but with more? i guess? idk. a bit more dramatic and a bit less minecraft-y yknow

* * *

**_Wilbur_ **

Democracy was meant to be a good thing for L'Manberg. At least, that was what Wilbur Soot thought. That was what many of L'Manberg's citizens thought.

Stepping up to the podium should not have been this nerve wracking. It was a speech. He had done many of these. Nothing new. So why were his hands shaking?

Maybe it was the fact that one of his own endorsements had started to run his own presidential campaign against Wilbur and Tommy. Or maybe it was the fact that he was no longer confident that he had secured a majority vote for his party. Wilbur's mind was racing — it was hard to pick only one reason for his anxiety.

He wanted to get a glance at the results beforehand, maybe to ease his stress, or potentially worsen it, but he couldn't.

Wilbur takes a deep inhale through his nose, and shuts his eyes for a brief moment. The crowd waited quietly for the election's conclusion. It was his duty to deliver it.

"In my hand," he begins carefully, "are the results of the L'Manberg presidential election."

Another deep breath.

"In fourth place, with nine percent of the vote — that being with the exclusion of voter fraud — is Coconut 2020," he announces with as much grandeur he could muster. Distantly, he hears Fundy cheering. Of course Wilbur wouldn't put it past him to attempt to rig the election. It was inevitable someone would. And Fundy, who was like a son to him, was smart. So smart. A shame he went off on his own to join Niki and form their own party. It seemed everyone was looking to betray Wilbur nowadays.

He pauses for another breath, then continues. "With sixteen percent of the vote, Schlatt 2020." Wilbur takes a moment to look back at his old friend, who was looming in the corner, a dark expression over his face. Not even a hint of emotion, just... plotting. As if he knew something Wilbur did not.

Wilbur looks back down at the card with the results. His hands still tremble, and the paper has been crumpled, but not a noticeable amount from the audience. Good. That was good.

"In second, with thirty percent of the popular vote, the party lead by Alex — Swag 2020," Wilbur announces, and as the words are said he feels as if a weight had been lifted off his chest. That meant —

Wait. No. That wasn't right.

Tommy grabs his shoulder and jostles him excitedly, but Wilbur's heart had fallen to his stomach. _Forty-five percent of the vote was theirs, yes, but — forty-_ six _belonged to the coalition parties._

"Tommy, don't start celebrating yet," he says lowly, over his shoulder.

Tommy furrows his brows. "Why not, Wilbur? We did it!"

Wilbur simply shakes his head, and readies himself to finish giving out the results. He feels Tommy's hand slip from his shoulder.

"Pog 2020 came in first with forty-five percent of the popular vote, however—" he pauses, "party leaders from Swag 2020 and Schlatt 2020 had decided to pool their votes if neither party had won, which adds to forty- _six_ percent of the vote."

It felt devastating to say, but what was done, was done. Schlatt would be the new president of L'Manberg. A nation he had so little history with, he was now to govern. It seemed unfair, sure, but they had to go by the votes. This was supposed to be a democracy, after all.

Wilbur takes a step back from the podium as Schlatt takes a step forward. The corners of his lips quirk upwards as he makes eye contact with Wilbur. There was something evil stirring behind his eyes, but Wilbur couldn't quite place it. And so, he drops his gaze and makes his way to the audience.

He grabs Tommy's arm on the way, pulling him to the side. "We're citizens tonight, Tommy."

"Get off my podium, Tommy," Schlatt taunts, a grin on his face. Wilbur drags the younger boy offstage with him.

Wilbur makes his way to the back of the crowd with Tommy as Schlatt begins to speak. Alex's face is bright with the excitement of winning the election, and George stands quiet and stoic in the background.

Schlatt taps the mic almost mockingly before he starts into his speech.

"Well," he begins. "That was pretty easy."

Wilbur clenches his jaw. This wasn't right. Nothing about this was right.

"And you know what I said the day I said I was running?" Schlatt continues. "I said things were going to change. I looked every citizen of L'Manberg in the eye and I said, "You listen to me. This place will be _a lot_ different tomorrow." Well, let's start making it happen."

Schlatt was prepared for this. There was not a seed of doubt in Wilbur's mind that he didn't show up today without the expectation of winning. He was prepared to win this election.

"My first decree as president of L'Manberg — the _EMPEROR_ of this _great_ country _,_ " he speaks imperatively, throwing his arms wide, hands balled into fists. There's a wide grin on his face and an evil glint in his eyes. His next words were going to hurt, Wilbur felt it.

"My first decree," Schlatt repeats, low and quiet, "is to _REVOKE_ the citizenship of _Wilbur Soot and Tommy Innit."_

There's a mixed reaction — some cheers to contrast the few gasps of disbelief — but Wilbur's stomach had dropped to the floor. He was frozen in place. Tommy looks to him, as if searching for guidance, but Wilbur had nothing for him. He was just as lost.

"Get 'em outta here! You're no longer welcome here," Schlatt jeers from the podium. Wilbur stumbles from his seat, unable to think straight. He backs up slowly, feeling suffocated by the crowd as they begin to surround him and Tommy.

He just barely manages to take hold of Tommy as he lets his feet and instinct begin to carry him away from the stage, from his country. "Run, Tommy, _run!"_ He shouts.

"What about Tubbo, Wilbur?" Tommy pleads, stopping Wilbur in his tracks.

" — nothing more than a memory of L'Manberg. Relics of the past. A reminder of the darkest era this country has ever seen. And I guarantee you all, dear citizens, that tonight, that changes," Schlatt's voice echoed throughout out the nation. "C'mere Tubbo, I want you to do something for me."

"Wilbur?" Tommy falters.

"We have to keep going, Tommy," Wilbur advises. "We have to."

"But... Tubbo..."

"Tommy, we have to keep--"

" — I want you to hunt them down, Tubbo. I want you to _kill them_ ," Schlatt booms, and it was then that the fear finally set in.

"Tommy, we can't stay here. We have to go, _now,"_ he grits out. "Get a fucking move on. We can't go back for Tubbo, not now. It's not safe."

Wilbur was certain his legs had never taken him as far as fast before. It was likely the adrenaline, with Tommy just along for the ride. They eventually find refuge, and lose everyone on their trail, even Tubbo. It was disheartening to run from their friends, their family, but they had no choice. Wilbur didn't want to leave them behind but what could he do? He was exiled, and wanted dead.

He was already a dead man, really. They both were.

Wilbur drops his back against a large tree trunk, sinking to the dirt. Head in his hands, he tries to calm his breathing.

"What now, Wilbur?" Tommy asks quietly. He's wringing his fingers anxiously. It was Wilbur's job to help him, _guide him._ Teach him life lessons like an older brother. Tommy was young, _too_ young to have to be in this position, and Wilbur, too, was failing him.

"I don't know, Tommy." His voice wavers. "We've been reduced to ash. We have _nothing._ I don't know."

Tommy sits himself down next to Wilbur, though not in the same defeated manner. There was still some determination in that kid, there always was. He was good like that. Wilbur admired him for it, often wishing he had that same drive. He used to, but that passion had long since disappeared.

"I have an idea."

Wilbur huffs out a laugh, feeling rather bitter at the moment. "And what would that be, Tommy? _Nothing,_ Tommy. We don't have _anything_."

"But we _do,_ Wilbur," Tommy insists, standing once more. He plants himself in front of Wilbur, towering over him. "We can rebuild! And-and we have... we have Techno, right? That's something!"

Wilbur sighs. "I don't know if I can trust anyone right now, Tommy. Especially not — "

"Well do _you_ have any other ideas, big guy?" Tommy snaps. "He's a legend, man. He can help us. There's not many other options, just like you said. We get Techno on our side, we rebuild, right here, right now. We create our own paradise, and plan a fucking revolution. What about it, Wilbur?"

Tommy offers out a hand to Wilbur. Wilbur grips it firmly, pulling himself up. "Some motivational speech that was," he remarks. "What are you gonna call this new place then, huh?"

Tommy smiles wide, eyes bright with hope and ideas. "We call it... _Pogtopia."_


	2. reinvention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so maybe i'm adding more than i anticipated lol. the main storyline is still there though!

* * *

_**Alex (Quackity)** _

"You've done well so far, sir," Alex compliments Schlatt. They overlook L'Manberg, now Manberg, as declared by its new president, walls torn down and old flag burned to ash. Clear signs of a new era.

Something sat wrong with Alex about it, but he dismissed it. Schlatt knew what he was doing, surely, but something about the view from the large floor-to-ceiling windows of the white house felt off.

The new president stood at the window, hands clasped behind his back. He was abnormally quiet since everything had happened. Alex takes a careful, calculated step towards Schlatt.

"Sir?"

"There's much still to be done, Alex," Schlatt tells him sagely. "We've barely begun. And first, I want to go to be able to go to sleep knowing that Wilbur and Tommy are _dead._ Get me Tubbo, I need a status report on that. Knowing Wilbur, he'll be planning something."

Schlatt turns on his heel, brushing past Alex on his way to the door. "I'll be about. Let me know when Tubbo is back, I need to speak with him," he commands.

"Of course, Schlatt."

The president pauses at the door, hand resting on the handle. He throws a look over his shoulder, a smirk resting on his lips. "You make a good V.P., Alex. I know you would never let me down."

Alex bows his head, avoiding eye contact with Schlatt as he responds, "Never, sir."

Schlatt simply hums in response before leaving Alex in the office by his lonesome. He lets out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding in. Schlatt was so... secretive and near emotionless — it was difficult to ever be able to tell what he was thinking.

But Alex guessed he better go find Tubbo before he upsets Schlatt. He _needs_ to be on the man's good side. _Needs_ to if he ever wants a shot at taking over some day — which was something he didn't quite understand. _His_ party had the majority votes of their coalition, so why wasn't _he_ the new president? It wasn't fair, it —

"What are you still doing in here?" Schlatt reappears in the doorway. Alex's head shoots upwards, eyes wide in brief panic.

"Sorry, I was just..." he trails off, unable to think of an excuse. "I'm on my way now. To find Tubbo. On it."

Schlatt nods his approval as Alex finds his way out. Was it wrong to be just a bit afraid of your president? Probably. But fear can hold power over people. Schlatt _knew_ what he was doing, and that thought was terrifying.

Alex expects he needs to send out a message to get Tubbo back to Manberg, but he finds the kid wandering about, albeit doing so rather suspiciously. Maybe in the way that he was trying to avoid Schlatt at all costs. Alex didn't blame him — he was really too young to have to be caught up in the middle of this, and being tasked to find and kill his best friend? That had to take some sort of a toll on Tubbo. He would argue it was too harsh, that Schlatt had taken his new leadership too far in that way. Not that Alex would have the guts to tell that Schlatt's face.

Right as Alex is about to call out to Tubbo to get his attention, Niki approaches him. She grabs Tubbo's arm and pulls him aside, which Alex can tell startles him at first.

Alex moves to take cover behind the camarvan, one of the only remaining evidences of L'Manberg left. He wants to eavesdrop because, despite his own wariness of Schlatt, Niki has caused nothing but trouble since the inauguration.

" — you have to know that none of this is _right_ , Tubbo. That's no president of ours!" Niki hisses.

"I'm sorry, Niki, but there's nothing we can do. Schlatt would find out," Tubbo argues.

Alex imagines she'd be shaking her head. "There's always something we can do. C'mon, you have to help me. We have to help Wilbur and Tommy."

Tubbo sighs. "I can't, Niki. Not right now."

"I'll figure out something, I swear on it," she counters, determinedly. Alex can hear her footsteps retreating just moments later. He slumps against the camarvan, which obviously alerts Tubbo of his presence as seconds later the teen appears around the corner.

"Alex? What are you doing here? I thought you were with Schlatt."

Alex shrugs. "He sent me to come get you. Something about wanting to talk. He's being all broody and mysterious and shit, what do you expect?"

Tubbo laughs. "Yeah, that's kind of his thing, I guess. That, and like, pure chaos."

Alex nods, pushing himself off the camarvan and standing straight. He adjusts his tie. "I'll walk with you?"

Tubbo shoots him a brief smile. "Sure."

They begin their way back to the white house. Alex has a sneaking suspicion Tubbo has already figured out that he had listened in on his and Niki's conversation, but neither mentions it.

"He said he'd be about but I bet he went right back into that office the second I left. I think he's a fan of the cushy desk chair. Fit for a president, I suppose. Wish I was sitting there," Alex jokes, desperate to break the silence. It was hard to find something to talk about without the fear of being heard by the wrong person. After defending the poor kid when the destruction of the walls had started, Schlatt had been a little less trusting of his V.P.

"I think just about any of us do," Tubbo responds, though lightheartedly. If Alex was on bad terms with the president, Tubbo was even worse off. There was significantly more risk for him to speak even relatively against Schlatt.

Which often made Alex wonder if this was still truly a democracy in the works.

"Maybe one day we'll get there, Toobo," Alex quips. The nickname, for old times' sake.

Tubbo doesn't say anything else as they grow closer to the white house.

When they're inside, they don't hear anything as they approach the office, so there was uncertainty that Schlatt had returned -- that was, until Alex had nearly swung the door open just seconds before hearing Eret and Schlatt talking. He shields Tubbo with his arm, shoving him towards the wall beside the doors.

"What are you — "

Alex shushes him rather aggressively. By the sounds of it, it wasn't a conversation they wanted to walk in on.

" — you don't realize what you're doing," Eret snaps.

"Oh, but I _do,_ Eret," Schlatt retorts, almost offended that Eret would accuse him of such a thing. "It just seems that none of you share my vision."

"You're lining up for a second war, Schlatt," Eret tells the president lowly, distastefully.

Schlatt chuckles quietly. "Yeah," he says distantly, "Maybe I am."

Not long after, Eret is storming through the doors, uttering a bitter, _"Unbelievable,"_ under his breath as he walks away. Just _great_ _—_ not only was Schlatt making new enemies already, but he also wasn't against instigating a war. _Awesome._

You'd think for such large doors they'd be more soundproof.

Alex looks to Tubbo, who seems a tad pale with fear. "We don't mention this, Tubbo. Ever," Alex whispers to him.

Tubbo nods, and Alex signals for them to head into the office.

"What was that all about, boss?" Alex greets, feigning ignorance. He already felt like he was walking on eggshells around the man.

Schlatt waves a dismissive hand. He's looking out the window again. "Nothing but another concerned citizen. No biggie. Did you find Tubbo?"

"I'm right here, sir."

Schlatt turns around, then. "Wonderful. Alex, would you mind leaving us a second?"

Alex inhales sharply. "Yeah, sure, sure. I'll be outside if you need me."

"Of course." Schlatt smiles, and despite the gesture, it doesn't feel at all warm like a smile should. 


	3. progress

  
* * *

**_Tommy_ **   
  


Pogtopia was slowly becoming home, built from nothing, the ground up. Wilbur had reluctantly agreed to employ the help of Techno, which in the end had certainly helped them start building their nation. He agreed to train them, and they got to work.

They employed Tubbo as a spy between nations, and Wilbur was managing an open line of communication with Niki. Eret had offered help since the beginning, but as Wilbur says, once a traitor, always a traitor — his trust needed to be earned, even by Tommy. Wilbur was hesitant to trust _anyone,_ let alone Eret. Tommy knew they needed allies, but Wilbur's distrust blinded him, and was hurting their growth as a revolution.

Wilbur was to bring Tubbo to Pogtopia today for the first time since he became their spy. Apparently he had stolen some information that Schlatt had left unattended, and Wilbur thought it should be stored at their new base, where no one from Manberg could find it.

But because Wilbur was currently away getting Tubbo, and therefore Tommy wasn't currently under his supervision, Tommy had decided to sneak his way back to Manberg to retrieve some of his old stuff. Word was, according to Tubbo, that Schlatt was away for a day or two. It was a perfect opportunity, so naturally Tommy had to seize it. Thankfully Techno couldn't care less about what he was doing or what his current whereabouts were. He was like a cooler older brother. Not that Tommy knew what that was like.

Arriving at his old home was like a wave of nostalgia hitting him, even though they hadn't been exiled for long. It just reminded him of simpler days. Tommy wished he had the time to meticulously comb through his stuff for anything important, anything that might help Pogtopia, anything that he simply missed, but he couldn't be too certain of who was around, or who might see him.

He's ready to leave with a bag packed full of his things when he notices a book that he had most _certainly_ never owned sitting out on his table. It looked like a journal of sorts.

Tommy slowly sets down his bag and picks up the book. The cover is nondescript and barely worn. He opens it to the first page.

Inside the journal is a short letter, scrawled in barely legible handwriting. What surprised Tommy the most was that it was addressed to him, and — signed by _Dream_? That didn't make sense. He begins to read it over;

_"Tommy, I knew this time would probably come._

_"For a kingdom that rules with kindness and not with might. No weapons, no armour, just a group of people. Schlatt does not follow these same principles._

_"Schlatt wants weapons, Schlatt wants power. Schlatt want to expand out into Dream SMP lands._

_"Schlatt wants to abolish the walls in order to take more and more land. Schlatt is no Wilbur."_

Tommy laughed. How things had changed since the war. How Dream would never even insinuate that Wilbur was a good leader not too long ago. He continued on,

_"I don't know if peace can be maintained between our two nations with Schlatt at the helm. Last time I tried to take a stand on behalf of the Dream SMP, I was touted as a villain. This time, I can't involve myself._

_"Schlatt is technically a democratically elected leader, and I can't overthrow him._

_"If you need my help, I am here, but it must be from the shadows. I can't be caught breaking the peace treaty, even though the people I made it with are no longer involved._

_"I have trusted you with my most prized weapon, which was used to attack you on the day before the election. Only fitting it be used on him in retaliation._

_"For now, farewell from the shadows. Be safe. Dream."_

Tommy shuts the book. That was good, this was — he should tell Wilbur. Wilbur would forgive him, surely, for sneaking back to Manberg if he brought home information like this. This was _big._ This could bring them to victory even sooner, with Dream on their side.

He doubles back on the things in his chests in search for Dream's aforementioned weapon, and lo and behold, it was Dream's beloved crossbow. He never let anyone touch that thing, not even citizens of the Dream SMP.

Tommy takes the crossbow after shoving the book into his backpack as well as he can and makes a run for it. He could come back later. He could _always_ come back later. Manberg — no, _L'Manberg_ _—_ was his home. It's where he should be.

Tommy is almost in the clear, but just as he reaches the border, he notices Alex in the window of the white house, watching him. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._

Tommy presses a finger to his lips as if telling Alex to keep quiet. The latter does nothing to acknowledge this, but Tommy _knows_ he saw it. Alex disappears from the window a few seconds later. Tommy was praying he wouldn't tell Schlatt.

Regardless, though, he keeps running. He needed to show Wilbur the journal. He could worry about Manberg's vice president later.

Tommy comes stumbling into the commune, where Wilbur, Techno, and Tubbo were already talking. Upon seeing Tommy, Wilbur's face becomes angry.

"Where have you been, Tommy?" He asks irritably.

"Out getting... stuff," Tommy replies rather vaguely, before dumping out his bag, digging through his things for the journal, holding it up for Wilbur to see. "But look here! Dream left something for me!"

Wilbur's expression becomes noticeably less tense. "What is it?"

Tommy walks up to Wilbur, tripping over a couple of items he threw on the floor on his way. He hand the book to Wilbur.

"And this crossbow, Will. The same one — "

" — that Schlatt used to attack us on election day? Yeah, I remember," Wilbur says offhandedly as he skims through Dream's message.

"I'd say having the guy that founded the lands that Manberg was built on might be of help. Just maybe," Techno adds from behind Wilbur.

"You're still on the fence, Techno," Wilbur mumbles.

Techno shrugs. "Honestly I'm only here because, well. Fuck the government, right?"

Tommy grins and cheers him on, pumping a fist in the air, which earns him a brief smile from Techno, and a scolding, "Tommy, put your hand down," from Wilbur. Tubbo is still quiet.

Wilbur folds the journal closed. "This is good. Tubbo grabbed some of Schlatt's plans for Manberg, and now we know we have Dream's support. This is gonna help a lot."

He hands the journal back to Tommy before stalking off to god knows where. Wilbur himself was being awful distant and broody nowadays.

"What's his deal, amirite?" Tommy quips, throwing a thumb over his shoulder in Wilbur's direction. Techno snorts, shaking his head before walking off himself, leaving Tommy and Tubbo by their lonesome.

"How's it going Big T? How's Schlatt treating you? Horrible, I bet," Tommy jokes, nudging Tubbo.

"Horrible," Tubbo agrees. There's a quaint, content smile on his face, but his eyes are tired. Schlatt must really be putting him through the wringer.

"Whaddya think of Pogtopia? Pretty cool, right? Much better than _Manberg,"_ Tommy jibes, tossing an arm over Tubbo's shoulder, leading him further into their new nation. "Lemme show you around."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know of any feedback you might have, i always love to hear it!
> 
> ty for reading! <3


	4. a note

* * *

**_Wilbur_ ** ****

"Hey Wilbur! Someone left a note for you!"

Wilbur looks up from the papers he has scattered over his makeshift desk to see Tommy in the doorway waving a slip of paper. "Tubbo said it's from Big Q."

Wilbur furrows his brows. "Why would Alex...?"

Tommy shrugs. "No idea. Tubbo told me not to read it," Tommy informs him. He tosses the note on the table before heading out of the room.

Wilbur snags the note from where Tommy dropped it on his desk. It was just a piece of card stock folded in half — there was absolutely a chance that Tommy had read the message. Wilbur opens the note and scans it over. Apparently Alex wanted to speak to him about something, which was rather vague and just slightly concerning. The vice president of Manberg wanting to discuss something with him in secret... sounded like a trap if ever there was one.

"Oh yeah, I forgot," Tommy sticks his head back in the doorway, "Techno's been acting weird. He found some stuff but wouldn't let me look at it. Told me it was a "gift from God" or something. I thought he was supposed to be atheist, but whatever."

"A gift from God?" Wilbur inquires.

"How am I supposed to know? Ask him," Tommy tells him, as if that would be of any help at all.

Wilbur shakes his head, waving Tommy away with a sigh. Techno would be an issue for another time. The man was an oddity, and rather elusive. So long as he wasn't causing harm to their developing nation, it wasn't Wilbur's top priority. Currently, he had to figure out what to do about Alex's request to meet with him.

Alex on his own was no threat to Pogtopia, but who was to say that Schlatt wouldn't be accompanying him to this "meeting". It was risky, but he was curious.

Tubbo was still wandering about Pogtopia, so Wilbur passes on a message to Alex asking about a meeting point, and Tubbo was on his way.

In the meantime, Wilbur prepares. He suspected he was walking into a trap, so he wanted to be ready if an attack occurred. He hides several weapons in his coat and keeps a dagger tucked in his boot. He had to admit that Techno had taught him well the arsenal he should keep on himself for any situation.

Wilbur wanted to speak with Tommy before Tubbo returned, but he couldn't find the kid anywhere. Hopefully that meant he was either training with Techno or out gathering supplies, but Tommy had a tendency to get himself into various kinds of trouble. While his unpredictability served him well at times, it would most certainly give Wilbur grey hairs.

"Wilbur?" Tubbo's quiet voice breaks him from his thoughts.

Wilbur turns around. Tubbo is wringing his hands. "Alex suggested he come here but I told him otherwise. He agreed to meet on the border of Manberg."

"Good, Tubbo, you've done well," Wilbur nods his approval. "Did he mention anything about a time?"

"I'd suggest heading there soon. Schlatt wants me to do something back in Manberg so I have to go back now. I don't know what Alex wants to talk to you about though, so be careful," Tubbo advises.

"Thanks, man. Hopefully all this nonsense is over soon."

Tubbo hums. He seemed almost... melancholy most days now. Wilbur hated to see this burden on someone so young — even the war hadn't caused this much turmoil. Wilbur himself felt aged by these circumstances.

Tubbo is about fifteen minutes gone when Wilbur is about to leave, which also happens to be when Tommy reappears.

"Hey, Will..." he greets. Tommy sounds nervous.

"Not now, Tommy, I'm heading out," Wilbur tells him in passing, already at the entranceway of their secret tunnel to Manberg.

"About that..." Tommy starts rather sheepishly, following Wilbur into the tunnel. "Well, I mean. Not really about _that_ but _kind of_ concerning that, but that's not the point — "

"Then what _is_ the point, Tommy?" Wilbur asks, peeved. He keeps walking, and Tommy continues to trail behind.

"Alex knows about the tunnel, Wilbur," Tommy informs him, which nearly stops Wilbur in his tracks.

"He _what?"_ Wilbur shouts. "How? Tubbo knows not to take the tunnel to get there."

Tommy says nothing response, obviously afraid to admit out loud what Wilbur was able to piece together — Tommy had snuck out to Manberg via the tunnel when Wilbur had sent Tubbo back to speak with Alex. That's where he had been.

"Tommy, you _idiot,"_ Wilbur grumbles. "I can't believe you fucking — you can't pull shit like this if we don't want to get caught, Tommy! You know that!"

Tommy sighs, frustrated. "I _know_ that Wilbur, but you don't let me know what's going on, anymore! I wanted to _know!_ I didn't mean for Alex to see, _obviously."_

"But he _did_ is the point," Wilbur berates. Another trapdoor is shut behind them, concealing their path from Pogtopia. Wilbur is certain they've made it through enough of their hidden and misleading pathways to stop and scold Tommy.

"You can't keep being this _irresponsible,_ you are _very well_ old enough to know that by now. It's what will cost us this revolution! Every time you pull a stunt like this, you risk our entire operation, Tommy! What part of this do you not understand?!" He yells.

"Wilbur, I — "

"No, Tommy! You can't keep making excuses!" Wilbur shouts. "This is why you're not president, Tommy, _and never will be!"_

"Ooh! Do I smell internal conflict?" Alex comments rather cheerily from behind them, startling both Tommy and Wilbur.

Alex is joined by Schlatt and an anxious Tubbo. Tubbo makes a face at Wilbur as if to say "I'm sorry", but it wasn't his fault, now was it?

"Nice tunnel you got here, Wilbur," Schlatt remarks, scratching at the nearest wall, as if inspecting it. "I've been told it leads to your little hideout, hm?"

"Who told you — "

"Actually, Schlatt," Tubbo pipes up, "I built it. It's so we can get around Manberg faster. Like a, um, metro! Like a metro."

Tubbo's lie surprises Wilbur, but he does his best not to show it. He owes Tubbo one. He may owe him a few at this rate.

"Is that so, Tubbo?" Schlatt questions.

Alex frowns. "That's not what — "

Tubbo shoots Alex a look before telling Schlatt, "Yeah, yeah it is. Thought it might be convenient, you know? Improvements to our great country, right?"

Cogs are very obviously turning in Schlatt's head, but he clearly decides not to say anything about it. Schlatt wasn't stupid by any means, but hopefully the lie would stave him off for a bit.

"So what brings you here, Schlatt?"

The aforementioned shrugs, adjusting his tie. "I just want to talk, Wilbur. I want to see eye-to-eye, my friend. I want to get along. Don't you think that would benefit the both of us?" Schlatt tilts his head, a small, condescending smile on his face.

Wilbur scoffs. "Funny."

Schlatt brings a hand to his chest. "You wound me, Wilbur. Really, you do. Is there nothing I can do to find even ground?"

"Step down, maybe," Wilbur retorts. "I didn't come here to talk to _you,_ anyways. I'm here to speak with your VP, so if you please...?"

Schlatt raises his eyebrows, huffing out a laugh. "Wow. I see how it is, then. I'm sad we can't work anything out right now, truly."

"Coming from the man who exiled me," Wilbur snarks.

"Fair. I'll be seeing you then, gentlemen," Schlatt says, making his exit. He grabs Alex and aggressively pulls him close to whisper something, to which Alex pales, and nods furiously. Perhaps Wilbur misspoke about their meeting plans.

"Tubbo?" Schlatt beckons. The boy is quick to turn and catch up, not wanting to upset the president further. Alex looks angry.

"Great fucking going, Wilbur," Alex snaps. "Schlatt's gonna fuck me over when I get back to the white house."

"Maybe you should specify that you hadn't told Schlatt about this meeting in the first place then, Big Q," Tommy says.

"This doesn't concern you, Tommy," Wilbur chides.

"Sorry," Alex interjects. "He's right, Tommy. Not today."

_"You were the one that snitched to Schlatt!"_ Tommy exclaims.

"Because he's my goddamn boss!"

"Come on, let's not do this right now, alright? Tommy, if you don't mind leaving," Wilbur asks, tone much kinder this time. Maybe he was too harsh sometimes. Maybe that was the issue.

Tommy snorts. "Yeah, sure. Fine. Whatever. Not like you ever want me around anyways."

"Tommy, it's not like that."

"Saying that out loud doesn't make it true, Wilbur." Tommy shakes his head. "Enjoy your chat." He adds bitterly.

Tommy purposely shoves his way past Wilbur in a final "fuck you" way, and honestly, Wilbur doesn't blame him. He _was_ an asshole, but he needed to be if he wanted their revolution to succeed.

If they ever wanted to call L'Manberg home again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy halloween everyone! hope y'all are staying safe :)


	5. future plans

* * *

**_Tubbo_ **

Tubbo was exhausted.

Not only did Schlatt have him running around completing errands for him, but the travelling back and forth, and the collecting of information for Wilbur was getting on his last nerve. Was he not allowed to have time for himself anymore? He was sixteen for god's sake, and now he was but a mere tool for espionage.

Currently he was sitting in the presidential garden just for a break, a breath of fresh air. He wasn't able to return to Pogtopia for the last few days because of Schlatt, and he needed to get away. Something about watching the bumblebees fly from flower to flower collecting pollen was... calming. Peaceful. They didn't know war like people did, and Tubbo envied that.

He hears footsteps approach him and a presence sit beside him on the bench. Tubbo doesn't turn to see who it is.

"Schlatt said he wants to give another speech," someone — Alex — informs him. "He didn't tell me what this one was about."

"I can only imagine," Tubbo quips. "He has a knack for them, though, I have to admit. Can keep an audience pretty well."

"That he can," Alex agrees. "He told me to come get you, for the speech. Wanted you there."

Tubbo huffs. "He usually does."

Alex hums, and they both stand. Schlatt seemed to get more and more demanding as the days went on. He was being more... cautious nowadays, but he still held himself with much authority. Schlatt had built solidified walls around himself, and absolutely refused to let his guard down if it were the last thing he did.

Approaching the podium, Tubbo is swept away from Alex by Fundy and Schlatt, and brought backstage. Schlatt greets them with a predatory smile and few words, before urging them towards the podium. Fundy and Tubbo exchange a confused look, neither quite certain what the speech was about, obviously. Tubbo _really_ wasn't certain what it could be as Fundy has been on nothing but Schlatt's good side, especially since burning down the old flag. Tubbo... not so much.

Schlatt wraps his fingers around the sides of the wooden podium, a close-lipped smile on his face. He clears his throat.

"Citizens of Manberg, it really is a pleasure to have you here again. Always is," he starts. "I have an announcement to make, and a pretty exciting one at that, I believe. To celebrate democracy, to celebrate the new era of Manberg. A festival!"

There are scattered cheers among the crowd as the announcement is made. Fundy is cheering along with them, of course. Schlatt turns to Tubbo and beckons for him to come closer to the podium. Schlatt throws an arm around Tubbo's shoulder, squeezing just a bit too tight, though Tubbo had a feeling it was intentional.

"This here, my dear Secretary of State Tubbo, is gonna be planning this great event," Schlatt declares. Tubbo hopes his surprise isn't evident on his face. "He'll be in charge of the activities, decorations. It'll be a fun time, right Tubbo?"

Tubbo gulps and nods. "Right, Schlatt," he agrees meekly.

"And not only that, but he'll also be delivering the festival speech. And Fundy," Schlatt pauses, gesturing to the aforementioned, "will be preparing the stage for this wonderful celebration, and will be serving as security. Let's hear it for 'em!"

The audience applauds, and Tubbo hears Alex whoop from the front of the crowd. Schlatt gestures wide with his left arm, right arm still attached to Tubbo. Schlatt leans towards the latter, away from the mic. 

"I want a good fucking speech Tubbo. No slip-ups," he hisses into Tubbo's ear, before retreating to his prior position, grinning wide with, dare Tubbo say, excitement.

"And of course," Schlatt adds, "our friends Wilbur and Tommy will not be invited. We do not want _any_ traitors in our midst." Schlatt tightens his grip further on Tubbo, presumably in warning. Fear creeped up his spine. Schlatt must know. He had to know something. He wouldn't be acting like this if he wasn't suspicious.

Tubbo would have to be more careful.

But he also had to update Wilbur. It was necessary, if he wanted Pogtopia to succeed in leading their rebellion. Schlatt's democracy had quickly devolved into something akin to a dictatorship, and Tubbo feared what might happen if they let him continue his rein much further.

Not long following Schlatt's speech does Tubbo seek Alex out to ask him to cover for him if Schlatt questioned his whereabouts. He doesn't tell Alex the full truth, but he agrees to lie if necessary anyways.

Tubbo had never run so fast in his life to get to Pogtopia. He couldn't risk taking the tunnel, or a horse. It may raise alarm.

He comes crashing through Pogtopia, nearly tripping down the stairs into the depths of the blossoming nation. Tommy looks concerned when Tubbo finally makes it down, chest heaving, eyes wide in panic.

"You good man? You see a ghost or some shit?" Tommy questions, brows furrowed.

"Where's Wilbur?" Tubbo asks, straight to the point. He didn't have a lot of time.

Tommy tosses a thumb over his shoulder. "He's just in his room, wh — "

"Not now, I'll tell you later," Tubbo tells him in a rush, before brushing past to find Wilbur. He calls back, "Promise!"

Wilbur is sitting amongst plans and blueprints, as per usual. He glances up just briefly at Tubbo's arrival.

"Hey, Tubbo. What's the matter? You're all red," he comments.

"Schlatt's planning on having a festival next week and he wants me to plan it and give a speech and you're not invited but I think he's planning on something, I think he knows that I -- that we're working together," Tubbo rants, out of breath.

"I know," Wilbur hums. "I have eyes everywhere, Tubbo. That's why I've planned a meeting with Dream. He's going to help me rig Manberg with explosives."

"You — what?" Tubbo's heart drops.

"We have no other solutions, Tubbo. We don't have the power. So, why not blow it up?" Wilbur tells him, all too calmly.

"B-but what about our old homes? Niki? Everyone _but_ Schlatt?" Tubbo flounders. Blowing up Manberg was _not_ the solution to their rebellion. "Are you sure Tommy's okay with doing that?"

Wilbur shrugs, leaning back in his seat. "I haven't told him yet. He'll fight me on it, sure, but he doesn't hold any more power than I do. I have Techno on my side. He has to agree."

Tubbo frowns. "That's not very good, Wilbur. You need trust if you don't want this whole thing to crumble. You should know that, you rules L'Manberg for so long."

"It's but a memory, now, Tubbo." Wilbur sighs, shaking his head. He stands and walks up to Tubbo, placing a much gentler hand than Schlatt's on his shoulder. " _You_ need to trust _me,_ Tubbo. It's all we have."

Tubbo drops his shoulders as Wilbur walks off. He didn't understand why Wilbur was okay with throwing away history like that. Why Wilbur would be okay with the possibility of killing so many people.

Tubbo wasn't sure if he held trust in any party anymore. It was difficult.

Was there even a lesser of two evils in this scenario? Or was Tubbo right to lose hope?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay, i had to take a break because of school. this one was kind of a filler, but we're getting there! :)


	6. the festival

* * *

**_Tommy_ **   
  
  


The day was like any other for Tommy and Wilbur.

For everyone else, today was festival day.

Meant to be full of booth games and various activities for the citizens of Manberg to "celebrate democracy", it seemed like it'd be quite the event. Not that Tommy would expect anything less, what with Tubbo in charge of planning the whole thing.

Wilbur had sent Techno (re: Techno had decided on his own) to go and be the man on the inside as he was technically invited to the festival, as well as not in exile. Tommy was tied down to Pogtopia for the day, so long as Wilbur said, so he was unbelievably bored, being that Wilbur had long since been a good conversation companion. That, and Tommy was still mad at Wilbur for his plan to blow up Manberg — which had been his original plan for today, and still was. Tubbo's speech was meant to have a code as a signal for Wilbur to light the place up, but Tommy was keeping a close eye. He wouldn't let it happen, but he couldn't even _hint_ to Wilbur that that was _his_ plan for the day.

Wilbur was pacing in his makeshift office, muttering complete nonsense to himself. That man was on a dangerous spiral, and sometimes Tommy had trust issues of his own when it came to Wilbur. Tommy wasn't sure if he should be trusting Wilbur's mental state at the time being, and Techno wasn't much help outside of training either.

Tommy felt _alone._

For the first time since being exiled and since building up Pogtopia, Tommy has felt truly, utterly _alone._

Sure, he still had friends, he still had Tubbo, but this situation, this different way of life, had wrought on a new sensation that Tommy had never experienced before. It sat cold and deep in his heart. It was cruel and unforgiving. Unwelcoming.

Tommy takes a shuddering breath in attempt to calm himself down. This was it. This was really it. This was his life now. He held no more control, no charge over _anything._ No _freedom._

"Hey, Big T?"

Wilbur's voice is quiet and uncharacteristically gentle as he addresses Tommy. It wasn't cautious or timid or unsure, but steady, reassuring.

Tommy glances up at Wilbur. "What is it, Will?" He asks.

"The festival is about to begin," Wilbur tells him, as if it were new information. The tender tone of speaking is still there.

"I know," Tommy grumbles, "I don't see why I should care, you told me I have to stay here regardless."

Wilbur nods. "Yeah, I know. But... I wanted to tell you that I've... forgone the _explosive_ plan, at least for now. I need your help with something."

"With what?"

"Come with me, quick. I'll explain it to you on the way."

Tommy tilts his head. "On the way?"

"Yes, we're going to the festival," Wilbur clarifies. "C'mon, we're low on time. And grab Dream's crossbow on the way out."

Tommy jets up from where he sat, jokingly saluting Wilbur as they were on their way out of Pogtopia, and presumably off to cause chaos in the former L'Manberg.  
  
  


* * *

**_Tubbo_ **   
  
  


Tubbo was... _nervous,_ to say the least.

While he was confident that the festival was to be a success, as he poured nearly heart and soul into it to appease Schlatt, Tubbo worried about his speech, and Wilbur's plan.

Very last minute Wilbur had informed him that (thankfully) he would no longer detonate the explosives that were rigged all around Manberg, but rather, he would attempt to assassinate Schlatt.

It was risky, Tubbo had to say, but it was infinitely better than blowing up an entire nation, full of citizens, regardless of what side of this invisible conflict they were on. Tubbo had refused to believe that Wilbur had been so willing so simply... erase history at the push of a button. And, clearly, with such a late change of plans, Wilbur wasn't quite ready to let go. A piece of him still remained attached to what once was his home.

Tubbo doesn't really pay attention to his surroundings for the duration of the festival. The beginning, at least.

He trails behind Schlatt and Alex like a lost puppy, too afraid to branch off since Schlatt's constant reminders to _not fuck this up, Tubbo. You better watch what you say, kid._ Tubbo could not take one step out of line, he couldn't jeopardize anything. This festival was his last chance to redeem himself.

Tubbo's speech could not come quick enough. Everyone seemed to be having fun at the festival, even Schlatt seemed to relax, if just a minuscule amount. Things were looking okay.

Everyone gathered in the audience as Schlatt brought Tubbo up to the stage alongside Alex. The chattering among them served as white noise to Tubbo. It barely helped.

Schlatt is talking and gesturing, a million-dollar smile plastered to his face. Tubbo doesn't really register the words today, only listening for his cue to step up to the podium. It would be soon, he was sure.

And, lo and behold, there it was;

"The moment you've all been waiting for since the beginning of this _lovely_ festival. Please welcome my right-hand man, my protege, Tubbo, up to the podium to say a few words," Schlatt announces.

Tubbo thinks the bones in his legs had dissolved with the way he felt walking up to that podium. He's lucky that he doesn't bumble around like a newborn giraffe on his way to the microphone. Schlatt steps aside for Tubbo, and Tubbo takes his place.

"Good after — erm, evening, e-everyone," Tubbo stammers out. He takes a deep breath through his nose and recomposes himself, and continues, "Um, a wise man once told me that for every nation, just like Manberg, there are layers. Every time you peel back another layer, you find more of the nation's hidden gems, its people, its culture. But you only see that after getting rid of the first layer of grime and filth that clouds this greatness, and Schlatt has managed to do just that — wash away the faults and the darkness that L'Manberg tried to cover up. And with that, everyone, both citizens and otherwise, are able to see this great nation for what it is."

Tubbo pauses, looking to Schlatt, whose expression gave no hint to what he was thinking. Tubbo scans the crowd and the buildings surrounding, and for a split second, he thinks he sees a silver flash up on the roof of the nearest building, but Tubbo dismisses it. He's probably just imagining things.

He pushes forward, "Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like you to take a look around today, at what we've built. Look at each other. All of this thanks to democracy, and the leadership of president Schlatt. And is this festival not what this is all about? Democracy. Our people have been beaten down by royals and by dictators for so long, that we are finally free. Free to elect who we want, free to live how we want, and most importantly, free to go wherever we want without the confines of those huge black walls. With that in mind, I'd like to thank everyone for coming to this event."

There's cheering from the audience, but from beside Tubbo, a deep, rumbling laugh arises from Schlatt.

Tubbo turns to the president, full of fear. "Is something wrong, Schlatt?"

Schlatt huffs and shakes his head. "No, no. It's just that... I was thinking about it, Tubbo..."

"A-about what?" Tubbo stutters. He makes sure the mic is directed away from him. No need for all of Manberg to hear his dread.

"We like to have fun, right Tubbo?" Schlatt asks, though Tubbo has a feeling his question is rhetorical.

Tubbo nods, slow, unsure. "Well, yes, of course. Is there something else, Schlatt?"

Schlatt's expression mocks pensiveness, and his eyes bore into Tubbo's. "You got anything else to add to that speech of yours, Tubbo?"

"Let the festivities continue?" Tubbo tries.

Schlatt is placated, for only a moment. "You're done with the speech, then?"

"I — yes, that's it. Are you sure something's not up, Schlatt? You're acting a bit odd," Tubbo comments, if a bit boldly.

Schlatt nods to himself, though not really in acknowledgment to what Tubbo said. "Alright, alright. Luke, Fundy, you mind helping me with something?"

From behind, two sets of arms wrap around Tubbo's, restraining him. Tubbo looks out into the crowd again, and notices a few new empty seats. _Oh._

"Schlatt, what are you — what is this? What — "

Alex doesn't so much as move an inch as this happens, face stoic, sturdy. Like he doesn't want to see Tubbo. There are mixed reactions amongst the crowd, and poor Niki appears horrified, a hand clasped over her mouth and eyes wide. Tubbo felt as scared as she looked as Fundy and Luke pull Tubbo to the side to make room for Schlatt at the podium.

"Tubbo, I'm going to cut to the fucking chase here, alright?" Schlatt begins, voice laced with fury. Schlatt takes a moment to calm down, clearing his throat. "And I mean — Tubbo, this really sucks, you know?"

"Schlatt, what are you talking about?"

The president ignores Tubbo entirely as he carries on. "It pains me to say this, it really does, to say this in front of everybody, but sometimes, examples need to be made. Tubbo, I know what you've been up to."

Tubbo's blood runs cold. He doesn't bother to fight Fundy or Luke to free himself. There was no escape from this, truly.

Schlatt lifts his chin, nostrils flared as he points angrily at Tubbo. " _Conspiring with the_ idiots, _with the_ tyrants, that we kicked out of this _great nation!_ Now, Tubbo, I don't know if you're aware of this, but... treason, is not exactly a respectable thing around here."

When Schlatt turns to Tubbo, Tubbo sees nothing but rage in his eyes, but Schlatt doesn't _really_ seem angry, if anything — Schlatt seems _excited_. "I know what you've been doing, Tubbo, _it all adds up._ The fucking _tunnels,_ your _absences_ during events _—_ I mean, you walked off in the middle of this one!"

Tubbo can't find any words to defend himself before Schlatt is speaking again. "Do you know what happens to traitors, Tubbo? Nothing good."

Tubbo was almost certain he was shaking. He had good reason to. He was absolutely _terrified._

Schlatt turns back out to the crowd. "Techno, would you mind joining me up here for a moment?"

Techno himself appears confused by this, but nonetheless he schools his expression, and does as Schlatt says, if with a little hesitance.

"We like to send messages, around these parts," Schlatt informs the crowd. "And as enemy of the state, Tubbo, well. Techno, if you would be so _kind_ as to take care of him?"

Time stops. Tubbo feels sick. Schlatt couldn't be _serious_ could he? He — he wouldn't just _kill_ Tubbo, right? _Right?_

"Schlatt, you couldn't possibly be sure about this," Techno says.

Schlatt simply shakes his head, giving Techno a not-so-friendly pat on the shoulder. "But I am, Techno. If I didn't care about my country, maybe, but that's not who I am. Alex?"

Alex passes up a crossbow to Schlatt, who then passes it to Techno. Techno assesses the weapon that was in his hands, and loads it, but it remains pointed to the ground.

"If you would do the honour of... _eliminating_ this _criminal_ of ours, Techno?" Schlatt requests one more time.

"Schlatt, I don't think this is the right thing to do," Techno argues. "He's only sixteen. He's a kid. Throw him in jail if you want to teach him a lesson."

Schlatt hums. "If that's what I wanted, _Techno,"_ he spits, "then that's what I would have done. Kill him, Techno. Shoot the traitor."

Tubbo's lip wobbled, and tears welled in his eyes. "Please, Techno," he pleads, voice wavering. "Please don't do this. You don't have to, _please._ "

Techno readjusts his grip on the crossbow.

"Kill him, Techno," Schlatt commands, " _Kill him!"_ He screams.

Techno raises the crossbow, aiming it at Tubbo. His finger rests lightly on the trigger. He takes a slow, precise breath, steadying himself.

"I'm sorry, Tubbo."  
  
  


* * *

**_Tommy_ **   
  
  


Tommy feels all the air leave his lungs the second Techno pulls the trigger. He nearly collapses, just as Tubbo does up on the stage, slumping back into Luke and Fundy's arms. An arrow protrudes from his chest, the cruel, manmade weapon pierced through his heart.

Tommy feels as if he's forgotten how to breathe. He doesn't even hear Wilbur's footsteps as he gets closer. Startled by Wilbur's careful hand on his shoulder, he nearly pulls the trigger of his own crossbow on accident.

"I'm sorry, Tommy," Wilbur rasps. He sounds pained. "I didn't realize..."

"No one did," Tommy exhales. He's surprised he can speak with how choked up he felt. His hands trembled like never before.

Wilbur moves his hand to lower Tommy's crossbow. "We missed our shot. Let's go home."

"But — "

"We'll hold a memorial for him, okay?" Wilbur whispers. "It's what Tubbo would've wanted."

Tommy tries not to cry on their way home. He owes that much to himself — not because he was afraid to show weakness, but because he didn't want Wilbur to know that he had been affected so deeply. Obviously, Wilbur, too, was affected by Tubbo's — _not death, Tommy didn't want to call it death_ _—_ _state_ , but Wilbur knew much better how to handle grieving than Tommy did. Wilbur had lived through death before, and that's where they were different. That's why he was Pogtopia's leader, of course. He was resilient in a way Tommy could only wish to be.

Wilbur — this was not Wilbur's fault. He didn't know that Tubbo's espionage would lead him here, but Techno... Tommy would never forgive him. This was his doing. He could've refused. _He could've._ He was stronger than Schlatt. He had a _weapon._ And yet.

Techno is already back in Pogtopia when Tommy and Wilbur return. There are no emotions on his face as Tommy rushes up to him, rage-fuelled, and decks Techno in the face. Tommy had never felt anger like this before. _Techno deserves this,_ Tommy tries to reason with himself, but something still seems wrong.

 _"You killed him, Techno! You killed Tubbo!"_ Tommy yells, and it echoes through the walls of Pogtopia.

Calm as ever, as he wipes the blood that trickles from his nose, Techno responds, "I'm sorry, Tommy. I had no choice."

"No choice? _No choice?!_ You always have a choice! _Always!_ Tubbo's _dead_ because of you! _You_ killed him, you motherfucker!" Tommy shrieks.

"Tommy — "

"I don't want to fucking hear it. Fuck you, Techno. I thought I could trust you," Tommy snaps. "Wilbur, you can't think this is okay! We can't have him here! This is _treason! This_ is _treason!_ Just as well as what Schlatt accused Tubbo of!"

Wilbur sighs. "Tommy, Techno's right — he didn't have a choice. Who knows what else Schlatt would've have done had he not k — had he not done what he had to do."

Tommy scoffs. "Fuck you, Will. I can't believe this. I can't fucking believe this. We just lost another ally! This only makes us weaker!"

"And _you_ continuing to argue doesn't help!" Wilbur shouts. "You settle this now or you're settling this in the Pit, and you will damn well lose in there, Tommy."

"No, I won't," Tommy disagrees. "Come on, then, Techno. Let's settle this. Like men."

Techno holds himself with great composure, Tommy observes, and he hates it. Techno nods stiffly, a hand already hovering over the pommel of his sword. "Alright then. Like men."

The Pit, despite its name, wasn't really much of a pit. They had found a clearing nearby Pogtopia that, as a group, they had decided to dedicate it to training for when a war might arise, for when their revolution would charge ahead. But today, a duel. Tommy just hoped his training will serve him well.

But, then again, he was to be fighting his teacher. Maybe this was a mistake. But he couldn't back down now, even if his own confidence, that was now faltering, had gotten the best of him. What Techno did was wrong. Tommy could only at least try to fight for his newfound cause.

They start on opposite sides, Wilbur their referee, in a way. The battle itself is a blur. Tommy fights his hardest, but it just isn't good enough. It never would be, not against Techno.

They end in the centre, with the tip Techno's sword directed at Tommy's throat.

"You know what you did was wrong, Techno," Tommy spits. "I'd think a man of your dignity would know that."

Techno tucks his sword back into its sheath. He sighs. "The thing is, Tommy — you're using words... but the thing about this world, is that the only universal language is violence, and we've had that conversation, we've spoken that language — here, in the Pit. It's over, Tommy. On to a new day, to a new plot — to destroy Manberg."

The last thing Tommy sees, lying on the ground of the Pit, is Wilbur's disappointed frown before he and Techno are walking away, back to Pogtopia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally i never wanted to do pov changes within the chapter, but i thought the... yknow... had to be in tubbo's perspective, and it was too short to be a chapter on its own :)
> 
> bit angsty, i know, but i hope you liked it!!


	7. a clash of power

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i couldn't help but get one more update in pre-war hehe

* * *  
 ** _Alex (Quackity)_**

It should not have Alex this long to fully realize just who Schlatt _really_ was — a dictator, a _tyrant_. It should not have taken the death, _the public execution_ of a kid, everyone's friend, to see that. It was shameful, if anything. And yet, here he stood, still the vice president to this cruel man. It was wrong.

But Alex was weak.

He couldn't just walk away, no he couldn't. He was angry, he felt betrayed, and yet couldn't muster the conviction to simply _walk. Away._

Schlatt had called for Alex to his office in the white house after festival, but almost as if Schlatt knew something, he allowed Alex to take his time. _Just make it some time today, Alex,_ Schlatt had told him.

It took courage, really, to walk up the steps to the white house. To face Schlatt. That man had no soul. That man was in no way human. He couldn't be.

When he arrives to the office, Schlatt is tearing down the wallpaper and paintings, and everything is in boxes scattered across the room. A sheet of plastic covered the desk that was centred by the window.

A wave of anger washes over Alex. "Schlatt, what the fuck are you doing?"

Schlatt shrugs, continuing on with his destruction. "We're starting fresh, Alex. Beginning anew."

"Schlatt, wh — no, you can't! What the fuck are you talking about? I built this place! _I_ did! You can't just tear it down!" Alex protests.

"But I can, Alex. We're moving on and out. To better things."

Alex scoffs. "Fuck you, that's not what this is. You couldn't possibly understand, you didn't build this place up! You just appeared out of nowhere one day, and suddenly you're the president! _I_ am the one with the votes, Schlatt, not you!"

Schlatt shakes his head and tears down another poster. "I do understand, Alex, that's the thing. You wanna know how I know? Because I've accomplished things. I know how to run this place. You could do jack shit compared to what I have, Alex."

"And what have you done, huh?" Alex challenges. "You accomplished what? The public execution of a _child?_ Is that what you're being so high and mighty about?"

Schlatt sighs and drops his shoulders. He still faces the wall. "I did what I had to, Alex. Had I not, who knows what other state secrets he might share with _Wilbur."_ The name sounds like poison in Schlatt's mouth.

"How could you be so _unkind_ , man? Wilbur would never — "

"Don't you _ever_ compare me to him," Schlatt screams, throwing whatever he had in his hands to the floor. He turns violently to face Alex, nostrils flared, an expression of wrath. Alex had never heard such fury in his voice until now. "What, are you on his side now? Huh? _Huh?"_

Alex clenches his jaw. "Yeah, Schlatt, maybe I am."

A second of silence passes before a laugh begins to climb its way up Schlatt's throat, deep and bitter. The low chuckle gradually evolves into a maniacal cackle.

"You don't think I don't know things, Alex? You don't think I don't know that everyone has been against me from the start, _Alex?_ That's _fucking_ right, I _know_ you never wanted to be my vice president in the first place. _You_ got the votes, so _you_ should be in my position right now, right? Did I get that right? You don't think I don't know that half of those people out there are only here out of personal gain? You don't think I don't know that Fundy only burned the flag to try and trick me into thinking he was on my side? You think Niki stays here because she _wants_ to? You may think I'm unaware of these things, but I _know_ , Alex. I've been alone from the fucking _start,_ and here I still am."

This catches Alex off guard, and his bravery, his stance falters, but only in realization. "You've finally lost it."

"Oh _have_ I?" Schlatt rebukes, a wide grin on his face. Then, his expression drops, the heavy rise and fall of his chest to pair. "I'd watch where your loyalties lie, Alex, because Wilbur Soot is no better a leader than I."

"Schlatt — "

_"Get the fuck out of my office!"_ Schlatt roars. _"Get the fuck out!"_

"Gladly," Alex tells Schlatt, spitting at the ground in front of the man before storming out.

So maybe it was easy to simply walk away. It just took one last push. Alex supposed that had been his final straw.

He doesn't have a set direction of where to go, but so long as it was far away from Schlatt, Alex couldn't care less. That man was no man — that man was a _monster_. And an insane one at that.

Alex had wandered all the way to the outskirts of Manberg when a pebble hits him in the head from out of nowhere, which was followed by an aggressive _psst!_

"What the fuck?" Alex asks the air. He spins around frantically searching for the source of the sound and projectile.

_"Hey! Over here, dipshit!"_

Alex whirls around, certain of the origin of the sound. It turns out to be... a bush. Someone was in the bush.

_"Who's there?"_ Alex hisses.

Tommy, of all people, peeks out from the bush. "Come closer, I'm trying to stay out of sight."

Alex rolls his eyes a walks over. He looms over Tommy, who is crouched in the shrubbery. In any other circumstance, Alex might laugh. His hands are on his hips as he questions the kid, "The fuck are you doing here, Tommy?"

"I'm here to spy, isn't that obvious?" Tommy snorts.

Alex glowers at Tommy. "Yeah, it is, now would you stand up? You look dumb."

Tommy stands and brushes himself off, frowning. "Fine, whatever. I wasn't even planning on coming here to talk to you but I overheard you and Schlatt fighting, and, well. You mentioned something about Wilbur?"

Alex pinches the bridge of his nose irritatedly. "Yes, and Schlatt said Wilbur wasn't any better than him. What's your point?"

Tommy face contorts in disgust. "Well that's just not true at all. Sure, he wanted to blow up Manberg — "

_"What?!"_

" — but he is nowhere near as evil as Schlatt, I gotta say. And besides, why would you ever listen to him after what he did, huh? God, you're stupid."

"I'm not stupid," Alex objects, offended. "Just having trouble deciding who I can trust."

Tommy groans. "Ugh, decide later, I'm taking you to Pogtopia. If you'd have let me cut to the chase then maybe you would've already known that."

"Why would you want to do that?"

"Wow, you are dense. Because of the fight? I thought that was clear," Tommy says, making a face. "Whatever, come with me or don't, I'm leaving."

Tommy steps out of the bush, revealing a crossbow that he'd been carrying around. He begins to walk away, true to his word, and Alex follows.

They take the tunnel that Tubbo had lied about to him and Schlatt all that time ago. Alex nearly lets loose a shrill _"knew it!"_ upon entering. Of course, what stops him is that Schlatt had likely known Tubbo had been lying, in fact — Alex might even say that was the clear as crystal start to Schlatt's descent into the distrust of everyone around him, not that Schlatt was wrong for it.

Alex would hate to admit aloud that whatever Tommy and Wilbur had grown Pogtopia from had turned out pretty great upon arrival — it was established, a bit outdated and rundown sure, but it was a surefire sign of a nation. A nation that could hopefully take down Schlatt.

"Wilbur?" Tommy calls out. "I'm back, Will, I need to talk to about something! Where are you, buddy?"

Alex has to take in everything at once as Tommy drags him through Pogtopia in search for its leader. Maybe he'd get to appreciate it a bit more later on.

"Will?" Tommy shouts once more as they round a corner into what appeared to be a sad sort of office space.

Wilbur is inside, hunched over a desk. He runs a shaky hand through his hair. That was... not quite what Alex would have expected.

"Will?" Tommy repeats, this time much quieter, concerned.

"Are we the bad guys, Tommy?" Wilbur whispers. "Am I the villain?"

"Wilbur, you're not making any sense."

Wilbur turns his head to the side, not quite enough to see Alex and Tommy standing in the doorway, not even in his peripherals. He bores holes in the ground. "When I said you weren't going to be president, Tommy, that wasn't a challenge."

Suddenly, Wilbur stands from his chair, knocking it back. "It's true, Tommy, you never will be. So why do we have to be the good guys in this scenario, huh? Let's _be_ the bad guys. We have to be! We — we have to, Tommy!"

Alex felt like an intruder, a third wheel. Like a voyeur of something he wasn't meant to see. So much for leaving Manberg — apparently Schlatt was right about Wilbur, which was not in any way good.

"No, we don't Wilbur, you're being a moron," Tommy disputes. "Look, Wilbur, I got Alex on our side, he had a falling out with Schlatt or something, we don't _need_ to be the bad guys for any reason, Will!"

This is when Wilbur turns around. His face is... different from when Alex last saw him. Somehow more worn than before, even since the tunnel. If Alex had to guess, it had something to do with a certain festival. "And how can I trust that, huh? I've already lost enough, Tommy. How can I trust that Alex hasn't just brought that with him? More loss?"

Alex shakes his head. "I swear, Wilbur. I want to fight for your cause. I want to take down Schlatt just as much as you."

Wilbur sneers. "Prove it first, before I even consider trusting you."

Alex lifts his chin in a sort of defiance, even with Wilbur towering over him. "Put down the detonator first, before I even consider trusting _you."_

"Fine. I can do that," Wilbur tells him, easily enough. The man brings his hands up in mock surrender, the device in his grip. He carefully moves back to set it on the table, without his eyes leaving Alex. "Maybe today I won't press it, but mark my words, the both of you, it _will_ happen."

Tommy scoffs. "You're mad, Will. C'mon Big Q, I'll show you around."

Tommy snatches the detonator off the desk before Wilbur has the chance to stop him. He takes Alex's arm on the way out, leading him away from the office, away from Wilbur.

Alex can't feel as if there was no good left in this godforsaken place. Maybe they were doomed for corruption, no matter what side one happened to take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops :)


	8. preparation

* * *

**_Alex (Quackity)_ **   
  
  


Despite their falling out, Schlatt doesn't seem concerned with Alex's return to Manberg.

In fact — he acts almost as if nothing had happened. Like Alex had simply been away on a trip. Like nothing had been going wrong in the first place. Schlatt's nonchalance about everything was almost... unsettling.

But Alex pays no mind to this. He was here for a reason. He was on a mission. He was not here to crawl back to Schlatt and beg for forgiveness.

Whilst spending time in Pogtopia, Alex and Tommy had been trying to form a plan to take down Schlatt in the most peaceful way possible — anything to dissuade Wilbur for blowing Pogtopia up. The man was itching to set off the detonator any day now. And currently, their best option to avoid this, was a contract, as anticlimactic as it seemed.

Schlatt was never one to read the fine print on many contracts as consequences rarely came from it — which Alex had to disagree with, it was a shit mindset — so they were going to try and use the habit against him. And somehow, Wilbur agreed to this, and sent Alex out, with both he and Tommy in his ear in case of needed backup.

Written out, it was meant to be a contract that would allow Schlatt to tear down Manberg's protected historical sites in order for new construction and development to take place, as per Alex's permission since he was the only thing in Schlatt's way of this project. However, written in the clauses, was a roundabout way of passing presidential power onto the vice president, that being Alex. It was easy in theory, really, with Schlatt's poor attention to detail.

In practice? Nothing could be predicted. Schlatt was inconsistent, much of his action as president was arbitrary. He was the cause of Alex's apprehensiveness to even _think_ of attempting any plan to overthrow. Schlatt, at any given time, could have power, or he could have _nothing._ And at any given time, no one knew.

Right now, Alex sat across from Schlatt at an empty desk in a bare office, waiting for any form of response from the man. He was skimming through the near stack of papers Alex had presented to him, silent. Every second that passed only made Alex more nervous.

"Did something happen in your time away that suddenly prompted this change of heart?" Schlatt asks after what feels like an eternity, flipping another page before he pauses to look up at Alex.

Alex shrugs rather pathetically. "I've always considered it. Just hadn't decided to go forward with it until now. Could be beneficial, maybe." This was complete bullshit, of course, but it was meant to appease Schlatt for the time being, whether he was successful or not.

Schlatt sets down the papers and clasps his hands together. He rolls his shoulders back and sits up straighter, levelling a look at Alex. "And you expect me to believe that?"

Unsuccessful it was. "I'm sorry?"

"There's a ploy here, isn't there? I thought we've been over this, Alex, I'm not an idiot," Schlatt says, and while it seems playful, in good nature, there's venom in his words. "What are you trying to do here, hm?"

"Nothing, I swear — the contract's legit, Schlatt. I wanted to reconcile things, alright? I was being stupid the other day, impulsive. Stress got the best of me," Alex persists, and maybe he's overselling it, but it was the best he had.

Schlatt huffs, shaking his head, and continues to sift through the papers. Alex tries not to show his panic as Schlatt reaches the final page, or his relief when Schlatt returns to the first. Without a word, he opens a drawer to retrieves a pen. He brings it carefully to the signature line, but before ink touches the paper, the pen is set down. Schlatt's face is tensed as he flips back to the final page.

"Is your reconciling meant to come at the cost of my presidency?" Schlatt asks lowly.

Alex's heart drops. "What?"

"You don't play dumb very well, Alex, and I'm not sure whether or not that's a compliment," Schlatt tells him. "I was close to signing, I'll give you that, but something about those conditions didn't sit right with me and, well. Listening to your intuition pays off, does it not?"

"S'pose it does," Alex mutters.

"You're fucking kidding me, right? You were really gonna betray me like this?"

"Wouldn't be the first time I've thought about it," Alex grumbles. He stands, and snatches the contract from the desk. "Wouldn't be the first time anyone has."

"Figures, really. That's why I had people move the explosives all the way over to Pogtopia! Funny that. You can really motivate people when you make an example, send a message. Really does the trick."

This takes Alex aback, and judging by the the quiet, surprised _"What?"_ from the other side of the line, it did Wilbur and Tommy as well. "You knew?"

"Of course I did!" Schlatt cheers. He throws his arms back and brings his legs up to rest on his desk. "I knew Wilbur's plan all along. Rigged Manberg to explode on the day of my festival? Masterful, really. Would have been a spectacular event. Too bad he was too much of a fucking _pussy_ to go through with it. And Tommy, the sniper? Classy. Real classy, I'll hand him that."

"But how did you...?"

"I have my ways, obviously. And this... this bullshit contract, I just — you thought it would be that easy? To just betray me like that? You're a fool to think so, Alex," Schlatt spits. He slides his legs off the desk and stands, slapping his hands on the piece of furniture. "I've always been a mile ahead of you gang of imbeciles! This means _war_. So you'd better scurry on back to Pogtopia before I rip you to shreds. _You hear me?"_

"You will not win this, Schlatt. You never will," Alex sneers. His words were determined, but deep down, he was so, _so_ unsure.

A full-bellied laugh erupts from the president. "Did Wilbur tell you that? That is just _golden_ coming from the villain of his own nation."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

Schlatt scoffs. "You say that. You always say that. But how wrong you are every time those words leave your mouth. Now get the _fuck_ out of my sight before I start this war right here, right now. I'll be waiting. And I won't tell you to relay that information to your little buddies in Pogtopia, because I know they've been listening in."

It almost feels like déjà vu walking out of the white house again, albeit this time it's even more torn apart than the last. Schlatt worked fast, but of course Alex already knew that.

Wilbur is speaking nonsense too fast and complicated in his ear as Alex makes his way back, but one thing stands out to him — _"I pressed the button, Alex, and nothing happened. I_ _—_ _"_

"You _what?"_ He screams. It echoes through the walls of the tunnel to Pogtopia. "Wilbur, you fucking _what?"_

_"I pressed the button, Alex! Schlatt must've had someone fuck up the detonator when he moved the TNT,"_ Wilbur explains further, as if that would excuse his actions.

"Are you fucking insane?" Alex says in disbelief. "Actually, no cross that, obviously you fucking are! What about Tommy? Techno? Your home in Manberg _and_ Pogtopia, you fucker!"

Wilbur is chuckling, woeful and content all at once. _"Oh, I don't have a home, let's be honest. I don't care if Pogtopia blows up to smithereens. I don't care what happens. Nothing matters anymore, there are no winners. Why not have a bit of fun?"_

Alex rips out the earpiece the second he steps into the walls of Pogtopia, storming into Wilbur's makeshift control room. He looks almost... gleeful, and Tommy stands beside him angrily.

"Wilbur, are you crazy?" Tommy shouts. "It's not time yet, listen to me! There's other things we can do, Will!"

Wilbur shakes his head to himself. "There really isn't, Tommy. Not anymore. There never was."

"You madman!" Tommy cries. "What has gotten into you?"

Wilbur slowly rises from his seat, stepping away from Tommy. He faces away from both Tommy and Alex. "Tubbo's dead, Tommy. Techno killed him. Schlatt has no issue continuing his tyrannical rule. Fundy resents me, Niki won't speak to me. I'm losing everyone, Tommy. _I_ don't have any other options."

"I don't resent you, Wilbur," a voice says suddenly from beside Alex.

Fundy looks like he's been to hell and back, but then again, so does everyone else in the room. Everything was so somber nowadays.

Fundy moves to the centre of the room. They watch him closely, equally as puzzled to how he got there, but that question didn't seem a priority to anyone. He drops a journal on the table.

"I have been documenting everything, every _move_ Schlatt has taken since stepping up to the podium. I have information that I think could help Pogtopia. Schlatt is not as powerful as he makes it seem, and I'm sure Alex can attest to this. I have the proof right here in this very book. I'd like to you read it, Wilbur," Fundy announces. He looks to Wilbur, and they share a wordless moment, between old friends who could communicate beyond speaking.

A beat, then, "I thought you were Schlatt's last alliance?" Wilbur questions.

"That's what he thinks too."

Wilbur takes a hesitant step back to the table and picks up the book. He flicks through the pages, and out loud he reads, "Schlatt is extremely ill. He is running on borrowed time. His strength and power is but a mere facade. He is more than aware that the world is against him, but he doesn't know _just_ how alone he is. He is at his weakest point. He always has been."

A deafening silence falls over the room once the last phrase leaves Wilbur's lips. _Schlatt was sick? How did Alex not know this?_

"Do you all not see what this means?" Wilbur asks the room, but no one in particular. "If we blow up Manberg now, no one but Schlatt will be affected!"

Fundy frowns. "Blow up...?"

"No, that's not — " Alex stammers. "We have other options."

Tommy butts in. "We can reclaim it, Wilbur! We don't need to blow it up! We are stronger than him! Listen to me, Wilbur — we gather our men and just, you know, tug on the thread. Let it all unravel. Watch Schlatt fall apart on his own. It's easy, Wilbur, and we don't need to blow anything up."

When Wilbur says nothing, Tommy adds, longing, "I just want to go back to L'Manberg."

Wilbur seems to consider this. "Well... we can't do it today, Tommy. We need to plan."

"Yes, of course, we just — "

Tommy is interrupted by Pogtopia's one radio crackling to life. They all turn their heads to the unexpected sound.

"What the fuck is this?" Tommy asks, sounding bewildered as everyone's face appeared.

_"Wilbur?"_ Comes a voice from the radio.

Wilbur marches up to the device and takes it in his hand. "Who is this?" He demands.

_"It's Dream,"_ the voice — that being Dream — clarifies. _"I wanted to inform you, as sorry as I am to do so, but I cannot support you any longer. I have a new agreement with Schlatt."_

"Well this complicates things," Fundy mumbles.

Tommy snatches the radio from Wilbur. "What kind of agreement? What is this?" He grills. "Dream, you were on our side!"

"Of fucking course," Wilbur says bitterly. "Dream's a Techno type. He's on the side of the rebellion, yes, but only when it's the weaker party. Now that we're the stronger force, he's no longer with us. Isn't that right, Dream?"

_"That's not... quite it,"_ Dream begins, hesitant. Walking on eggshells, searching for careful words. _"Self-interest, Wilbur. Quite the motivator, I'm sure you know. Schlatt has just... offered something that you and Tommy never would."_

"Are we preparing for war?" Alex wonders aloud, voice quiet and broken. This wasn't what he wanted. He was certain it wasn't what anyone else wanted, either.

"Regardless, it's not an excuse to blow shit up," Tommy states. "You get that, Will?"

Wilbur takes back the radio. He stops to think a moment before replying, "How about this, Dream. A gentleman's duel, yeah? And if everything goes tits-up, well. _Then_ I blow it up."

_"Wilbur,"_ Tommy says, exasperated.

_"If that's what you want. I just wanted to let you know in advance what you were getting into,"_ Dream tells them. _"And know, just know, that there may be a traitor amidst your ranks."_

There are no additional words, from either side of the radio. Wilbur sets the device down. Dream's final words hang heavy in the air.

"A traitor?" Tommy contorts his face in disgust at the idea.

"As worrying as it is, Tommy, I don't think that's our main concern right now," Fundy says.

Wilbur nods. "I agree with Fundy."

Alex makes a face. "It's official then? We're going to war? Is that what we're doing?"

Wilbur inhales and exhales, slow, steadying. "I guess it is. Traitor or not, get ready, boys. It ends here. L'Manberg has seen war before, and this time will certainly not be the last either."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i'm so inconsistent with updates lol! and dw about the 13 chapters, i have a few surprises >:)


	9. war

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> every day i stray further from canon

* * *

**_Tommy_ **

Today was the day.

The day they would reclaim L'Manberg — or, maybe, lose it all. It could go either way. With the amount of things that have gone awry, especially recently, it was difficult to tell. But what Tommy could say was that he wasn't ready. He wasn't sure he ever could be.

But it was sure as hell reassuring to see all his friends standing side-by-side, prepared to fight tooth and nail for their country once lost.

"You alright, Tommy?"

It's Wilbur. He's been... _off_ in the time leading up to the war. Of course, since exile he hadn't really been himself, but Wilbur had been more elusive than the new usual. But he was here. He was on their side. Everything would be fine.

Tommy sniffs. "Yeah, just... thinking. I wish Tubbo was here for this."

"Here for what?"

Tommy perks up. _That_ most certainly wasn't Wilbur. He nearly gets whiplash with how fast he turns around.

"Tubbo?"

Though he was beaten-down, his left arm in a sling, and a tired, tired look on his face, Tubbo was here. He was alive. Holy _shit_ he was alive. What the _fuck._

"Hey, Big T," Tubbo greets, offering Tommy a weary smile. "Been a while, hasn't it?"

Tommy laughs. "No fucking shit, man. We thought you were dead! Where the hell have you been?"

Tubbo shrugs. "In hiding. Kinda. Eret and Niki helped me get better. And as horrible as it sounds, I'm sure it was a bit of a motivator, right? Some extra ammunition against Schlatt? That, and it was probably best no one knew, or Schlatt could possibly find out. It was best kept quiet. Sorry."

"I — "

"D'ya mind if we do this later?" Fundy interrupts. "Look, we all want a reunion moment with Tubbo but now is not the time, Tommy. We're kind of in the middle of something slightly more important. So long as you don't plan on dying for real in the meantime, Tubbo?"

Tubbo shakes his head. "Hope not."

Fundy shoots him a thumbs up. "Perfect, great, now let's get going."

Tommy rolls his eyes but sets off with the group anyways after waving Tubbo a (hopefully temporary) goodbye. 

He catches up to Fundy and socks him in the arm. "You're kind of an asshole, you know that Fundy?"

"You kind of have poor timing, you know that Tommy?" Fundy retorts. "Priorities are a thing, y'know. We have them for a reason."

They march on. "Sounds dumb if you ask me."

Wilbur jogs past Tommy, smacking the back of Tommy's head as he passes by. "No one asked you, dipshit." Wilbur grins back at him over his shoulder, and Tommy sticks his tongue out in retaliation. It was the little things.

As they reach the edge of Manberg, everything seemed more and more surreal as time went on. While war was not the worst outcome of the circumstances everyone was under, it surely wasn't favourable either. But if war meant Manberg wouldn't be blown up, then so be it.

And yet for war, there is much less battle than Tommy had anticipated. Even those considered to be a part of Manberg hadn't put up too much of a fight, and not because they couldn't, but maybe because of a lack of motivation, incentive. Maybe Schlatt had let them down finally, after all. 

There wasn't even so much as evidence of a traitor. But the fight wasn't over yet.

They eventually seize the white house, and being that Schlatt had little to no protection at this point, it was an easy move. It was an _obvious_ move — necessary for their victory. Pogtopia needed to assert their power.

And for all he was, they find Schlatt sulking on the floor, reeking of alcohol, tie loosened, his blazer crumpled up on the floor beside him. It was... kind of a sad sight. He cradled a bottle close to his chest.

"Are you _drunk,_ Schlatt?" Alex asks. He sounds disgusted, if anything. To be fair, Schlatt's current state wasn't very respectable. 

Schlatt hums in response. "Why not? I had no chance. Thought I might as well take my defeat with a little bit of fun."

"This is really pathetic, Schlatt," Wilbur tells him what they were all thinking. It was pathetic. And while, yes, he was known to be a drinker, Schlatt would never normally let anyone else see this vulnerability, at least anyone outside his inner circle.

Without thinking, Tommy brings his crossbow up to aim it at Schlatt's face. The man seems unfazed, but Tommy is trembling. Everything they had been through had led up to this moment. Schlatt's expression darkens.

"If you're gonna shoot me, Tommy, then do it. Or are you too much of a coward just like Wilbur here was when he planned to blow up Manberg, huh? Fucking _do it,"_ Schlatt challenges. He directs the crossbow towards his chest. "And at least don't fuck up my face while you're at it."

Wilbur then lowers the crossbow completely, just as he had during the festival. The movement is weak, as if Wilbur is conflicted, but Tommy lets him. "I have something else in mind. He wants it quick and painless. An easy way out. Never pegged you for the type to take the cop out route, Schlatt."

Schlatt laughs bitterly. "I'm not usually, but I'm sort of low on options here."

"Considering you're already dying. You have been, for quite some time now," Wilbur tells the group loudly, not particularly talking to Schlatt himself. "That's why you drink, right? It's incurable. Might as well go out sooner rather than later since you have nothing to lose."

"Got it in one," Schlatt slurs, flashing Wilbur a charming grin as he gestures the bottle gripped tight in his hand. The liquid within sloshes about as he brings the rim to his lips for another swig.

"Which is why _I_ propose..." Wilbur pauses. "That as the _new_ president of _L'_ Manberg, my first decree will be to revoke _your_ citizenship, Schlatt," Wilbur informs Schlatt wryly.

Everyone is quiet. Any movement ceases. That was... not what anyone had expected.

Schlatt tilts his head back against the wall. He closes his eyes and sighs, though he wears a content smile on his face. "Thought you'd never say so."

Schlatt stands with a surprising amount of grace for someone as inebriated as he was, but Tommy supposed when you were an alcoholic, being drunk and sober would essentially become the same thing. He bows to everyone mockingly, looking as disheveled as ever. "It's been a fun run."

And he walks out. As simple as that. It was over.

Tommy turns to Dream. "What about that traitor you mentioned? Who was it?"

Dream shakes his head. "There was never a traitor. It's all mind games, Tommy. Thought you'd be immune to that by now."

"The fuck do you mean there was never a traitor?" Tommy demands.

Dream only shrugs, before leaving himself. He would melt back into the shadows, lurking as per usual. He was a creature of habit. What a prick.

"Well, I guess that's it," Wilbur says after what feels like forever. "I'd say it's time to take back that podium. I think it's time for you to make a speech, Big T?"

Tommy knits his brows. "Me?"

"Of course. You didn't really think _I'd_ be the new president, did you?"

"Are you sure?"

Wilbur's face softens. "I am. I've never been more sure in my life."

So they take to the podium. Or, really, Tommy does. Everyone hangs back in the audience. Even Tubbo had made it back to L'Manberg. Pride swells in Tommy's chest at what they had finally been able to overcome. They were able to reclaim their home — _call it home_ once more. Nothing felt real. It had been such a long time since Tommy had known a moment of peace such as this, with everyone together despite any differences.

But he couldn't be president. It didn't feel right for him to take up the position. There was someone much more fitting for the role, more so than he _and_ Wilbur.

Surprisingly, the microphone still works after all the abuse it suffered. 

"The first thing that I'd like to do with my presidency is, uh," Tommy chuckles to himself, "I'd actually like to hand it off again. This time to Tubbo. I think he is much more deserving of it than I ever would be."

Tubbo was obviously not expecting this of Tommy, but everyone looks to him with smiles and encouraging faces, cheering him on. He had always been a friend of the people, no matter their background. Tommy was proud to call Tubbo a friend, always had been.

Careful of his injury, Tommy hugs Tubbo on his way up to the stage, and, respectively, on Tommy's way down. They would talk later, once the dust had settled.

And with that, Tubbo takes to the podium.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did you really think i'd let that mf die of a heart attack? after everything? no, absolutely not. also ik i switched the presidency thing around a lil BUT ITS OK I MADE IT MAKE SENSE KINDA
> 
> i also hope you didn't think i forgot about the explosion ;)


	10. epilogue

* * *  
**_Phil_**

The day was suddenly brighter, now that the storm of war was over. The darkness that clouded over the nations was cleared. It felt like a brand new day.

Tubbo stumbles through a speech, but he gets his point across — he obviously hadn't been expected to become president that day, and Phil didn't blame the kid. It was a surprise to everyone, and a huge responsibility to be suddenly placed on someone's shoulders, especially someone so young.

Everyone is cheering, celebrating their hopes for a new, better future. Phil smiles along with them, but can't help but get the sense that something was wrong.

Tubbo climbs down from the stage to join his friends once he wraps up his speech, each of them engulfing the boy in a hug. There are a few voiced concerns wondering about Wilbur's whereabouts, the man having seemingly vanished from the audience, but no one worries too deeply. It was just... inexplicably... _Wilbur._

Phil takes a quick glance around, however, barely spotting the billowing of a trench coat disappearing behind the stage. Phil steps back from the crowd, and follows Wilbur. Phil's instinct only grew stronger. Something was most _definitely_ wrong.

There's a hidden room behind the stage, invisible to just any passerby. Phil was not shocked it had gone unnoticed by everyone. He pushes open the door just as it swings shut. It's dark, inside, but there is enough light just to see _what_ the room was —it was a bunker, of sorts. A shelter.

Wilbur is across the room. There's something in his hand, something that blinks red. His thumb hovers over a button.

"Wilbur," Phil addresses him carefully, as if approaching a frightened animal. "What are you doing?"

His friend chuckles lowly, more to himself than anything. He looks up at Phil, and there's a wild glint in his eyes. "Hey, Phil."

"Tell me, Will — what is your plan here?" Phil commands. He takes a slow, steady step closed to Wilbur, whom of which doesn't seem to truly notice. He was distracted, anyone could see that. By what, though, Phil had yet to figure out. He should probably find out sooner rather than later.

Wilbur shakes his head. "This was once a special place, you know that, Phil?" He asks, and though his words form a question, it seemed more of a story Wilbur was to tell. "It still is, but... even with Tubbo in charge, I don't think it can exist again."

"Wilbur, you're not thinking straight."

Wilbur laughs cruelly, bitterly, as he marches up to Phil with a detonator raised in his hand. "The fate of everything is in my hand, Phil, it's right here. Can't you see that?"

Phil sighs, saddened by the sight. Wilbur truly _had_ gone mad, but not with power like Schlatt had. At least, not in the same way. "What are you doing, Will?" He asks, with nothing but sorrow in his voice. He was — not _disappointed,_ per se, but he expected more of Wilbur. Not this degraded, broken down version of him. He expected better, he always had.

"Doing what I was always meant to do," Wilbur replies, and he is _determined._ "What I worked for is gone. It no longer exists."

"Surely it does, Wilbur," Phil insists gently. "You just fought for it. Won it back, even. You don't want to throw that all away, do you?"

Wilbur lowers his head, now, gaze firm on the device in his hand. "There was something that a traitor once said, Phil. Someone once a part of L'Manberg, and — looking back now, they were very wise words. Do you know what he said?"

"Will, no — "

Wilbur grins. "It was never meant to be."

Time slows as Wilbur presses the button, Phil diving to stop him, but it's too late. The explosives had been detonated. Distantly, Phil hears shouting as everyone starts to hear a fizzling all throughout the area, before loud booms sound, shaking the bunker. Both Wilbur and Phil are knocked to the ground by the impact, but the room remains intact. There is more screaming outside, this time in pain. Phil might be afraid to leave the room afterwards.

They get back on their feet. Phil is horrified, but Wilbur is oddly calm. Content.

"What have you _done,_ Wilbur?" Phil shouts.

Wilbur doesn't reply, instead breathing in deep. He sounds satisfied, almost. He tilts his head back, staring up at the ceiling. "I want you to kill me, Phil."

Phil's heart stops at the words. They're quiet, but certain. Phil's hand moves instinctively to his sword as Wilbur takes a step closer to him, but he immediately regrets it. Wilbur watches in desperation.

"Please, Phil," he begs, voice breaking. It strikes a chord within Phil. Wilbur wanted this. He _needed_ this.

Phil frowns. "You know I can't do that, Will."

"But you can," Wilbur persists. 

Phil takes a step closer to Wilbur, bringing him in for a hug. Without another word, he drives his sword through Wilbur's abdomen. A sharp gasp escapes from Wilbur's mouth, but he's smiling. Shaking, definitely, but _smiling._

Phil retreats, letting Wilbur fall to his knees, hands grasped around the blade of the sword protruding from him. Blood drips down his chin, the fluid staining his teeth. He removes the blade from his stomach, dropping it with a loud clatter on the stone floor. 

Wilbur looks up at Phil. "Thank you," he chokes out, barely above a whisper. His eyes then flutter shut, and he slumps to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's the end of the main plot! i was originally going to add a few things, but i've since been a little uninspired and decided not to continue. hope you enjoyed reading as much as i enjoyed writing! :)
> 
> you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/crimsvn2) for updates on other fics and general shitposting lol :)) <3
> 
> you can also find my [ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsvn) as i decided i no longer wanted this work visible on my profile, but you can find me there :) (fair warning, it is mostly dnf)


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